2024

Oh, it's 2024 now.

It doesn't seem so.

As there's no change in me,

Perhaps then how a change in the year,

In a number, 

In a digit,

In a feeling,

And in an album of memories,

That I've created.

I did meet a lot of people,

But could only meet some of them again.

Some who were actually living,

Not just passing years and seconds,

Just to live.

The year taught me a lot of things,

Things?

Or feelings- which I denied of not having,

But in the end,

Those are the first things standing

In front of me,

As I go through the notes app,

Oh, should I call it

Just an app,

Or an album of feelings,

Of memories,

Just like the year gone by,

It's gone, as people say,

But it doesn't feel so,

Because I still have the feelings,

I promised not to have, though.

The year's changed,

But I haven't,

I'm the same one who,

With the list of reasons,

Of affirmations,

Of resolutions,

I made for,

For whom?

For me or that imaginary person,

Who stays inside my head,

Who just wants satisfaction,

Not from the person himself,

But the dread society with itself,

Having dead ends,

Having limits,

That no one can cross– 

Or no one is allowed to do so.

Because we are the members of the

The human race, as said,

But we are also the members

Of the so-called societies,

Which are there,

They are present,

 In our minds,

That is too shaped and framed,

For the society,

The society,

And by the so-called,

Humans.

But alas, we are still the first ones,

To complain,

To resist.

Are we cowards into thinking,

that the society isn't,

But in the end,

It's something made by us,

Humans.

But still, I stop,

As I'm still a human,

Who's different from the society,

As I think so,

Because the society's not like me,

It has dead ends,

But me?

I don't have any of them,

I'm just like a blank canvas,

Which frames and washes itself,

Each year, each day, each moment,

Each second,

To make an imaginary image,

Of satisfaction.

To satisfy the society,

To tell me– or wait,

To tell the society,

 It's people.

That they were successful,

Each time,

In making me change,

Even though I didn't want to,

I didn't want to accept the change.

And why?

To shape myself.

For myself

Or

For the people 

Of the society.

Oh, it's 2024 now,

But it doesn't seem so,

As I frame myself,

Each year,

As a blank canvas.

But alas!

In the end,

I remain blank,

In the same way, I was,

Blank.